


The Arthur

by teacuphuman



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Everything is Arthur, Happy Ending, Impulse Purchases, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 14:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/pseuds/teacuphuman
Summary: When Arthur didn’t take Eames’ intentions seriously, Eames got a little impulsive.Or, the one where Eames names everything Arthur.





	The Arthur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oceaxe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/gifts), [QueenThayet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/gifts), [AmoretteHD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/gifts).



> Inspired and concocted on my trip to Portland with @oceaxe, @QueenThayet, and @amorettehd when we visited The Arthur Hotel, which is now micro apartment with communal spaces, and just, not my cup of tea, but the building is lovely, and it's around the corner from the Habibi restaurant, and it just seemed like fate, or kismet, or something equally delightful.
> 
> Thank you to @oceaxe for the quick beta.

When Arthur didn’t take Eames’ intentions seriously, Eames got a little impulsive. What else was he expected to do when the love of his life laughed in his face? And okay, maybe Arthur hadn’t laughed, but a raised eyebrow was nearly the same thing, with a man like that.

 

So Eames bought a hotel. It wasn’t terribly large, or posh, or anything else that made it a decent investment, really, but Eames felt a kindred spirit in the shabby rooms and crumbling facade of the building. He couldn’t reject it the way a certain cruel, but ridiculously gorgeous point man had rejected him.

 

When the safety inspector ruled the building unsafe after what was really a very small electrical fire, Eames took out his frustrations on the empty rooms. Lovingly and with a large sledgehammer. He worked day and night, demolishing the interior of the building until it was a blank canvas once again, fresh and primed for greatness. 

 

A year later, after doubling the budget and tripling down on bribing the right people, Eames was left with four stories of crisp white brickwork, Tuscan columns, and terracotta panels decorated with wreaths, cartouches and pineapple motifs. Twenty-one bright and spacious units with the original exposed brickwork, sturdy wood beams, and hardwood floors. It was everything Eames wanted it to be, and more. It had been a difficult and trying process, but it was also rewarding and steadying, bringing him a contentment he hadn’t expected. The building was beautiful and elegant. Sedate, but unforgettable. His named his building The Arthur.

 

Eames filled the units with people who fascinated him. A preschool teacher who also happened to be a world class axe thrower, a ballet dancer who had lost his leg to childhood cancer, a deaf couple and their delightful daughter Penny, who had the brightest eyes Eames had ever seen and a nose for mischief. But even with every suite full, Eames was lonely. 

 

He bought rubber trees and ferns for the lobby and named them all Arthur. He bought a goldfish, a cat, and a dog, all of whom he called Arthur. His car, his bike, his ill-fated razor scooter, all christened Arthur, and all failing to fill the hole in his heart where the real Arthur belonged.

 

A boat, his favourite pen, even his left hand, none of them held a candle to the point man of his dreams. His left hand made a valiant effort but carpal tunnel was becoming a real fear and he had to cut back or risk serious injury. He sent pictures and letters to Arthur, showing him his collection and baring his soul, but still, Arthur didn’t want him.

 

Then one summer day, in the middle of a heat wave that had the occupants of The Arthur hiding inside with their air conditioning units, and Penny was playing amongst the Arthur trees, pretending the Arthur couch was the Arthur boat and that she was discovering the great land of Arthur all on her own, the real Arthur stepped through the door. 

 

“Hello,” Arthur said. 

 

“You’re Arthur,” Penny said, her bright green eyes staring up at him with wonder.

 

“I am,” Arthur confirmed with a single raised eyebrow. “How did you know that?”

 

“Everyone knows you.”

 

“Really?” Arthur smiled, intrigued and a little smug.

 

“Of course. You’re Real Arthur. The one Eames loves.” Penny told him with more authority than he would have expected from a six-year-old.

 

“Why would you say that?” Arthur asked, sinking his shaking hands into his pockets and  looking around the lobby for an adult.

 

Penny scrunched up her face. “Because Eames told me.”

 

“Eames told you that he loves me?” Arthur choked out.

 

“Why else would he name everything Arthur? Plus, there’s a picture of you on every floor. And two in the elevator.”

 

Arthur slumped down to the couch beside her just as a mangy grey dog came trotting in, going straight to Penny so she could scratch behind his ears. 

 

“Who’s that?” Arthur asked, warily.

 

Penny gave him a funny look and giggled as the dog licked her hand. “This is Arthur, of course.”

 

Arthur blew out his breath and sank further into the cushions. “So he really did name everything after me? It wasn’t a joke?”

 

“There’s nothing better than Arthur,” Penny said in a rather good imitation of Eames’ accent. “Arthur’s the only one worth having.”

 

Arthur ran a shaking hand over his face. “I thought he was kidding. Teasing me, like he always does. Professing his love in the same breath as his coffee order.”

 

“Maybe he was scared,” Penny said, patting the spot next to her until the Arthur dog jumped up to curl on the pale brocade upholstery. “He acts real brave, but he’s afraid of spiders.”

 

“I know,” Arthur laughed weakly. “He’s afraid of cows, too.”

 

“And ostriches,” Penny said wisely.

 

Arthur smile. “With reason. This one time in Texas we were running from—well, nevermind. His fear of ostriches is warranted, that’s all.”

 

“He’s afraid of you,” Penny told him.

 

Arthur let out a shuddery breath. “Why would he be afraid of me?” Arthur ran his fingers over the surprisingly soft, silvery coat of Arthur the dog. 

 

“Because love is terrifying.”

 

Arthur nodded. “You’re very wise.”

 

“I know. I can hold my breath for two whole minutes.”

 

“I am impressed,” Arthur told her seriously, and idea forming in his head as the slid his fingers over the silky-smooth skin of the dog Arthur’s ears. “If I leave will you promise not to tell Eames I was here?”

 

Penny crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you going to make him sad again?”

 

Arthur winced. “Not this time. At least not on purpose. I want to go get Eames a present, would that be okay?”

 

“The only thing he wants is you. And for West Ham to win the Premier League.”

 

“Naturally,” Arthur agreed. “I can’t do anything about West Ham, but I promise I’ll be back later today and that I will make Eames smile, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Penny said, clearly not believing him. “But if you don’t come back before bedtime, I’m telling.”

 

“Deal.” Arthur nodded and hurried out the door.

 

Two hours later, while Penny was helping Eames water the Arthur trees, Real Arthur threw open the door to the building, dragging a stack of orange Saarinen Eames chairs behind him.

 

“Arthur?” Eames said, startled.

 

“Hello, Eames,” Arthur responded, placing the chairs around the lobby. Once they had all been given a home, Arthur sat down in the one directly in front of Eames, crossing his long legs and leaning back, acting much braver than he felt.

 

Eames stared at him, dumbfounded while Penny giggled behind her hands.

 

“Arthur, what in world are you doing here?”

 

“I came to see my building. And my plants. And my dog, of course.”

 

“Okay,” Eames said slowly. “And the chairs?”

 

“This is The Arthur, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows.

 

“Yes,” Eames said, looking nervous.

 

“Well, you can’t have Arthur without Eames, can you? It just isn’t right. I mean, an Arthur without an Eames is incomplete. Adrift. Lost in a world without love and affection. It doesn’t make sense. Why on earth would an Arthur ever want to live without an Eames?” His voice cracked near the end, but he held Eames’ gaze like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

 

“Because Eames is a fool,” Eames said quietly. “Caught in the misery that comes from desperately wanting what you can’t have.”

 

“That sounds an awful lot like Arthur without Eames. An Arthur madly in love with an Eames he doesn’t think is sincere because Arthur can’t shake off his own uncertainty enough to see that the joke he thinks is being carelessly hurled in his face is in fact, a confession of love, masked by uncertainty and fear.”

 

Eames stared at him, hope and caution flitting across his face in equal measure. “You are quite terrifying,” Eames said, chancing a smile.

 

“And quite in love with you,” Arthur told him seriously, standing up.

 

Eames let out a choked sob, but his face broke into a grin. “And the chairs?”

 

“They’re comfortable. And Eames seems like someplace I’d like to rest for a while.”

 

“Just for a while?” Eames stepped forward, his hand skimming Arthur’s waist.

 

“Forever, if you’ll have me.”

 

“Oh darling, I will,” Eames said, pulling Arthur to him and pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Besides,” Eames pulled back a few inches. “Your look good sitting on an Eames.”

 

Arthur shook his head, but his smile was so wide it hurt his face. He kissed Eames again, his arms holding them together tightly.

 

They lost themselves for a while, clinging and touching, trying to make up for all the time they’d wasted. There, in the lobby of The Arthur, surrounded by Eames chairs, Eames finally got his Arthur and Arthur finally got his Eames.

 

“So,” Penny called out from behind them. “Does this mean I can change the dog’s name to Julip?”

  
  



End file.
